


The Kanji for Loyalty

by TrufflesTheMushroom



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Brotherhood, Gen, Growing Up, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrufflesTheMushroom/pseuds/TrufflesTheMushroom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tadashi, when Hiro is born, astounds everyone with his automatic surrender to love. Six glimpses of life in the Hamada household, from when Tadashi is six years old to when Hiro is six years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kanji for Loyalty

-

It's at some party or another- a gathering, a reunion, it doesn't really matter. It's rather more boisterous than the usual celebration, but then again, it's rare that so many Hamadas are together in one place at the same time. A distant uncle (or great-uncle?) gestures with his cup of Asahi at some aunt and quips grandly into the brisk night air, "Proof of the famous Hamada loyalty."

The aunt in question snorts, reaching behind the uncle for more gyoza, waving a fly away from the quickly disappearing spread. "There you go again, more of this samurai business." 

Another aunt pipes up from the other end of the room, valiantly trying to separate two squabbling children and gently removing a plastic samurai sword from a tiny, tonkatsu-sauce-sticky grip, "He's right, though. We have Bushido running through our blood. That's what Tomeo-oji-san always used to say." Everyone nods, remembering the great patriarch. Not everyone at the party is related by blood, but all who have been raised by a Hamada are Hamadas.

Uncle Sai pounds a fist over his heart. "That Tadashi's a real samurai, all right. We were right giving him the kanji for loyalty." He peers around, searching for a head of fine black hair under a brand-new San Fransokyo Ninjas baseball cap, but the boy is nowhere to be found. "See? What did I tell you? He's gone back inside already. Ten bucks says he's in the crib right now."

"Oh? Hand over the ten bucks," says the laughing mother, who suddenly emerges from the back door with a six-year-old Tadashi Hamada in tow. Uncharacteristically, the normally gentle child is glowering darkly, almost refusing to step on to the porch. It takes the offering of a plastic samurai sword and a stick of odango to bring him out of it, and through period glances back at the house Tadashi reluctantly joins his cousins in a fierce battle of Ninjas versus Kaiju. The mother sits down with a breathless chuckle, folding her skirt neatly beneath her legs and murmuring, "I swear. He's got it in is head that if he leaves Hiro alone for more than a second he's going to be hurt somehow. I can't separate them even if I tried."

Some aunt teases, handing her a plate of soba, "Be grateful. When Himawari was first born, Ayame didn't want anything to do with her. You've basically gotten your second son stolen from under your nose by the first."

The adults laugh. It's true. Many around the table are firsthand witnesses to this fine bit of child-thievery. A picture now hangs in every Hamada hallway of a six-year-old Tadashi, eyes round with wonder and almost moved to tears as he gently holds his newborn brother. It is a beautiful snapshot, documenting perhaps the very instant the samurai protective instinct awakens within the young Tadashi. He has always been mature for his age, but none could have foreseen that he would automatically, with the straightforward and unassuming way of children, claim the child for himself.

Under the firefly-bright porch lights and the glow of the city around their little yard, the Hamadas eat and drink and watch their children vanquish the imaginary enemy. When Himawari stumbles, Tadashi is the first to pick her up, and lead her by the hand to the adults' table for a smooch and a band-aid. The night grows dimmer and quieter as the children, slowly tired out, form a little pile of erstwhile warriors on the wooden deck and snack on slices of watermelon.

As if perfectly on-cue, Tadashi, when spying his mother checking her watch and heading inside, instantly scrambles up and tries to beat her to the door.

"I wanna hold the bottle! I wanna hold the-"

-

Tadashi doesn't stomp the frost from his boots before racing through the house like a normal child would. He sits down, carefully scrapes it off on the edge of the doorstep, shakes the dew from his jacket before hanging it up, and then commences racing around.

He dutifully tolerates it when some adult or another stops him to unwind the knotted scarf from his neck, and even permits half a second for a kiss on the head before sprinting up the stairs as fast as his little seven-year-old legs can carry him. Tadashi practically tumbles through the door in his haste to reach on tip-toe over the edge of the crib to gently smash his face into little brother's in greeting.

"Hey, Hiro."

The baby gurgles.

Carefully, Tadashi picks up the child in his arms and carries him off downstairs, past Aunt Stella and Aunt Cass in the living room. His single-minded determination is all stoic eyebrows and set mouth under his fringe of glossy black hair. The aunts share glances and stifled laughs.

Stella calls out, "Hey, Tadashi," as the child crosses the living room and into the kitchen.

"Hey, Aunt Stel, Aunt Cass."

"Have a nice day at school?"

"Yeah. We learned about plant and animal cells today," Tadashi answers almost offhandedly, an equally unperturbed baby in his arms. He sets Hiro down on a high chair and begins rooting around for a snack in the cabinets. Cass leans back and nudges Stella in the ribs when Tadashi finds a jar of baby food, bread and strawberry jam. As the aunts watch, used to Tadashi's unwavering fixation, as the seven-year-old tries to feed Hiro and make himself a sandwich at the same time. When he accidentally spreads a spoonful of pureed peas onto his bread, he gives up and just feeds the baby, bread and half-spread jam laying forgotten on the counter.

From the couch, Aunt Cass says, smothering a coo, "Aren't you hungry, Tadashi?"

"I'm fine. I'll eat after Hiro."

The aunts know better than to try and make Tadashi's sandwich for him. They just watch, fascinated, as the child scrapes up the bottom of the jar, burps his brother, compiles his own sandwich, cleans everything up and then takes Hiro upstairs.

Casually, Cass asks him, "Whatcha gonna do?"

"Homework."

"Gonna go out later? Meet up with friends?"

"Nah," says the seven-year-old, who gives them a perfunctory wave. Just before the ceiling swallows the brothers, Stella and Cass watch as he gently lays Hiro's head on his bony little shoulder, and gives him a peck on the cheek. When they're sure he's out of earshot, they let out their incredulous laughs.

"He's infatuated."

"I didn't know seven-year olds could even be that responsible," says Stella, but Cass, perfectly used to this daily routine, shakes her head, grin bright. "Tadashi's more like a stuffy old man in a kid's body than an actual kid. Can you tell he's going to be a great father someday? The way he just… claimed Hiro as his own. It's incredible."

"We might have to start him on Little League or something to keep Hiro from growing up thinking Tadashi's his actual mother."

"Trust me, it's already like that. Last week, when Tadashi was over at Uncle Akira's, Hiro cried all night and wouldn't calm down until Tadashi came back the next morning."

Aunt Stella shakes her head. "'Loyalty', huh?"

-

Tadashi firmly but gently tugs the controller out of Hiro's hands and sets his head back down on to his chest before unpausing the game. With Hiro in his lap, it's almost like he's got his own Player Two. The baby's so perceptive, there are four roving eyes on the screen rather than two.

"Reh-dem!" Hiro babbles, pointing at the screen suddenly. With a couple of lighting-fast clicks, Tadashi snaps up the elusive Red Gem and quickly slams through the level on the power-up. "Ha! Whoo!"

"Whoo!" copies Hiro, hands in the air. "Win! Tadashi win!"

"Yeah, Tadashi wins," grins the elder, setting the controller down to take Hiro's raised hands and clap them together. "Tadashi wins. But Hiro helped."

"Hiro help."

"Yep."

"Hiro help Tadashi win."

-

Hiro violently wrenches himself out of his aunt's arms and runs down the hallway before anyone can catch him, latching onto Tadashi's doorway and resuming his pitiful banging.

Tiny four-year-old hands almost bruising with the effort, Hiro wails, "Tadashi! Tadashi, c'mon," before slumping into himself at the base of the door, crying softly.

Aunt Cass crouches beside him and tries to calm him down, rubbing his back gently, cooing, "It's okay, it's only for a couple more days," but Hiro bangs on the door one more time, a trail of tears and snot running down his little face, "No. I want Tadashi. I miss him."

"He's sick, Hiro, he can't play with you today-"

"I don't care about playing, I just wanna-"

And then Hiro stops, looking a little lost, his hands making little grabby gestures in his lap, like he knows what he wants but doesn't quite know how to articulate it yet. "I just. I know he's sick. But why can't I be in there with him?"

"Oh, honey," says Aunt Cass, who wraps her arms around him as several other various parental figures loom around at the other end of the hallway. "It'll be okay. But we have to let him sleep now, or he won't get better-"

"Hiro?" says a stuffy voice at the other side of the door.

Aunt Cass says with a start, surprised, "Tadashi? Why are you out of bed?" as Hiro straightens up immediately.

"Tadashi!" Hiro practically screams, jumping up to grab at the doorknob, but even when he tugs on it with the weight of his entire body, the door won't budge. Distress vibrating every inch of him, Hiro quivers, babbling, face smushed against the wood, "Why'd you lock the door? C'mon, lemme come in. I'm bored. I just wanna- be- in there. With you."

"I'm really sick," says Tadashi, thickly, through what sounds like tremors. "I don't want you to get it."

"I don't care about getting it. Then we can just be sick together and-," says Hiro, and almost brightens at the thought of catching whatever his brother has, but he's stopped when Tadashi coughs painfully and there's a little thud like he's slumped into the door.

"Tadashi?"

"I don't want you to get it," repeats Tadashi, in a firm voice that almost frightens Aunt Cass in its maturity. "It's really bad. My throat hurts and my head hurts and my chest hurts and everything hurts. But-"

"… Yeah?"

"But I'd hurt more if I knew you were feeling the same. I'd be so worried I could't sleep. And if I don't get a lot of sleep now I probably won't ever be better. Ever."

Hiro whines, almost imagining that he can feel Tadashi's heat through the door, "Can't I just… give you a hug?"

There's a laugh from inside the room, and Tadashi mutters through stuffed sinuses, "I really miss you too, Hiro. You can give me a hug tomorrow, maybe, or the day after that, if I feel a little better than I do now."

"… Promise?"

"Yeah," says Tadashi, with an air of finality. "Go play without me. In fact, watch the new episode of Kunoichi Chronicles and come back and tell me if they beat the bad guy yet. I'm gonna go take a nap now so I can get better faster, okay?"

"Okay," says Hiro, defeated, and scrubs at his little wet face with the sleeve of his hoodie with a look of determination. As if nursing his own pain, Hiro shuffles down the hallway, head down, wild mop of black hair casting a shadow over his eyes. He looks like a proper ronin, cast away from his lands.

Aunt Cass watches him leave, the world's most dejected four-year-old, and when he's safely gone, opens the door. She sticks her head in, and then peers around, confused. It's only when she looks down that she finds Tadashi, wrapped up in a quilt at the floor near the door, hurriedly wiping a streak of bitter tears from his eyes.

"Honey?"

"I'm gonna be a doctor when I grow up," says Tadashi darkly, huddling into his little burrito of blanket, looking miserable. "So that no one ever has to be sick ever again and the people they love won't get sad over them."

-

Before Tadashi can even get through the door, he's accosted by a streak of red pullover and glossy black hair in a wild little puff.

He laughs and doesn't even try to pull his little brother off of him. "Hey, Hiro. Guess what I saw at school today?"

"A giant fire-breathing Gojira?" says Hiro, voice muffled into his shirt.

"Nope."

"Did your principal turn into a robot?"

"Nah."

"Ninjas."

"Yep."

"Wait, what? Really?" says Hiro, eyes wide, and finally releases Tadashi, who shrugs his backpack off of his shoulders, kneeling as he unzips the front pocket.

"There was an assembly about the importance of fitness and we had a presentation. At first I thought it was just gonna be a bunch of boring lectures about exercise and stuff, but as it turns out, there was actually a surprise. So I'm just sitting there in the auditorium watching some guy talking about eating healthy, right? And then, KA-PLOW!"

Tadashi whips a rolled-up poster from his backpack and unfurls it with a flourish. Hiro's eyes widen. It's a poster for the new Kunoichi Chronicles spin-off TV show, and in every corner there's an autograph from the main cast of actors.

"No way!"

"Yes way!" Tadashi says, pointing at the autographs excitedly. "It was the actual people from the actual show. They pretended they were storming the school to show us what to do in case of a 'ninja attack'. It was really fun. And then we got to ask them a bunch of questions about fitness and stuff, and I got you this poster."

"Oh my god, I'm so jealous- wait. Got me this poster?"

"Yeah," says Tadashi, holding it out. "I know you love this show. Look, it's Rinko Kikuchi's actual autograph. I wish you coulda been there. But at least you've got this-"

"You're not gonna keep it?"

"What would I keep it?" says Tadashi, shrugging, as if the idea never occurred to him. "I got to actually meet her. I got this for you so it's fair. Besides, we can meet her together when they do the live-action show tour next year-"

Tadashi doesn't get to finish, as he's tackled by the little cannonball of fluffy black hair and the brothers fall back against the door frame, poster forgotten.

-

"Uh… Nucleotides. They're… Monomers."

"Correct!" says Tadashi, who gestures up ahead to a large gathering of blooming pink trees in the distance. "Wanna see the sakura up there?"

"Yeah!" chirps six-year-old Hiro, skipping along the park sidewalk, with his older brother close at his heels.

The brothers tread heel-toe over the cobblestones and grass, half to escape Uncle David's nagging, and half to actually see the sakura trees. The fresh spring air at their backs, Tadashi holds out his arm for Hiro to hold on to as they take a shortcut over a tiny stream.

"And what're nucleotides made of?"

"A nitrogen base five-carbon sugar, and a phosphate group," says Hiro, laughing when Tadashi raises his arm to swing him over to a bridge. The uncle now way behind them, they slow down, Tadashi with his hands in his pockets and Hiro padding circles around him. The trees glow in the sunlight, surrounding the brothers in a halo of peachy pink and sky-blue. "And if the sugar's ribose, it's RNA. If it's deoxyribose, it's DNA. Gimme a harder one!"

"Okay, then. Velocities of waves."

Hiro sticks out his tongue, and runs ahead, arms spread wide, breathing the spring breeze deep into his lungs. Head thrown back, he closes his eyes. "Front, group, phase, signal."

"Correct again."

"C'mon, gimme a harder one."

There is a pause.

"Tadashi?" Hiro swivels around, confused.

His brother is standing stock-still, leaning on a sakura tree and staring down at him with something breaking the gentle smile in his eyes, something like- like he's just realized something very, very big.

"… Tadashi? You okay?"

Very slowly, Tadashi reaches out and as Hiro just stands there, confused, he brushes a few soft pink sakura petals out of Hiro's hair and smiles like he's going to cry a little bit.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just. I guess I kinda thought you were mine this whole time. But really, it's more like I'm yours."

"…Huh?"

"Never mind," says Tadashi, and the hand ghosting over his head suddenly comes down to ruffle through his thick black hair. Hiro squeals delightedly and Tadashi leans down to knock his forehead with his own with a grin. "Sorry for being weird. Okay. Five most important differential operations in vector calculus."

"Ooh, ooh! I got this! Uh… Curl… Divergence… Gradient… Laplacian…"

-

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the unbeta'd drabble, guys. I normally don't write or post work for stuff that hasn't even come out yet, but I had this idea stuck in my mind and I couldn't help but write it down. Ever since I read that 'DID YOU KNOW' in the merchandise books ("Tadashi has sewn mini GPS systems into every one of Hiro's hoodies, so he can keep tabs on his little brother.") I knew that I had to explore Tadashi's very strong preoccupation with Hiro. SIBLING FEEEEEEEEEEEELS. The 14-year-old Hiro from the trailers and extended materials seems very typically teenager-ish (calling Tadashi's college a 'nerd school' and making a big show about being bored during the botfight) and in the manga, he starts off idolizing Tadashi and as he ages, it very quickly dissolves into typically bratty younger-brotherness. My theory is that while Tadashi has always been very nurse-like and infatuated with Hiro, his worry and obsession is really only ever tolerated when Hiro is too young to care about being 'cool'. Plus, as someone from a typical large Asian-American family in California, I wanted to explore the culture a little bit. If the film comes out and this fic gets booted out of canon, I'll just have to accept it and write even more (canon-compliant) fics to help me cope.
> 
> Each and every comment is precious to me, so please leave one if you are able, and I'll treasure it~


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